Sweatervest
by ItalianLifestyle
Summary: Oneshot. Arthur Kirkland is too afraid to stick up for himself, or say what he really wants. When his nanny gets him a gift that he had been wanting for a long time, he finds his courage.


**Author Commentary:** I just thought of this as I was waiting for class. It's just something keeping me entertained.

**Title:** Sweatervest

**Characters:** Young!England/Arthur Kirkland and France/Francis Bonnefoy

Arthur was a good, perfect young gentleman. He did as his parents told him to do—or his nanny told him to do, as his parents were always too busy to deal with him. His schoolwork was done meticulously, as were his chores. As for his outfit, it was always perfectly clean and pressed, not a speck of dirt nor a wrinkle adorning the fabric. The black slacks of his dress pants stayed as black as night, no matter how much the sun tried to bleach them out as Arthur sat reading in the sun, and the starch white shirt stayed blindingly white, no matter how many grass stains tried to make themselves known whenever Arthur was pushed to the ground by the larger kids at his school. Despite all the bullies that Arthur had to deal with, he somehow managed to keep his composure and not let them know that they were getting to him, even though it hurt him deep inside. All the bullying is what led to Arthur's later reclusive behavior and his unwillingness to enter into any social occasions that were deemed a tradition by all the boys that had gone through that stage of life before him.

As he was walking home one day after a particularly violent bullying session that left his elbows skinned, Arthur saw something in a shop window. His vibrant green eyes lit up from their melancholy haze as he stared through the window, stopping before it to admire the beautiful article of clothing. The fabric was woven so beautifully and looked to be top quality. The colors were very earthy and had a rather calming effect on Arthur. They would complement his eyes nicely, he thought, and then shook the thought away. He had never asked for anything before, and he wasn't about to start now. Tearing his gaze from that gorgeous sweatervest, he continued on his way home, unable to get the beautiful thing from his mind as easily as he had walked away from it.

No one said anything about the new scabs on Arthur's arms that night as he sat at dinner, posture perfect as he ate his dinner, bringing the food to him, rather than the other way around. He wasn't a barbarian, after all, and he knew how to use cutlery. No attempt was made at conversation by Arthur or his parents, and in the end, Arthur asked to be excused from the table, heading up to his room to 'retire early.' That's not what he really did, though. He pulled out his laptop—an expensive piece of equipment—and pulled up a webpage, searching for tutorials on how to make something as exquisite as that, because he wasn't going to ask for it! That's not what gentlemen did. And so began Arthur's interest in sewing, knitting, embroidering and the like, not that he allowed others to see how much he loved the stereotypically feminine activity.

Weeks went by as Arthur made his sweatervest in secret, but finally it was finished. He looked at the thing and it was horrid. Nowhere near as lovely as the thing he had seen in the window of the shop. Heaving a sigh, he shoved it under his bed to where it had been hiding as it steadily grew into something that looked sort of like a sweatervest.

It was Friday night that the vest was finished, though it did not look as divine as Arthur had been hoping. Not in the best of spirits, he went downstairs to find his nanny had made him an extensive Saturday brunch. Normally, the delicious food took his mind off of whatever problems he had, but even that didn't take his mind off of the clothing. Unknowingly, he heaved many sighs as he pushed the food around his plate, not really interested in it, even though the scent had his mouth watering. He just... wasn't hungry.

"Cheri, what is wrong?" his French nanny asked him, leaning over him. "You look absolutely horrid. What's got you so upset?"

"Nothing, nothing," he said a little too hastily.

The Frenchman raised an eyebrow, knowing it wasn't really his place to pry. He said nothing more on the subject, instead offering, "Why don't we go on a walk? It's a rather lovely day. It would be a shame to waste it hiding away inside, non?"

Arthur wanted to do just that. The wasting it by hiding inside, that is. He just wanted to wallow in his misery at the fact that he sucked at knitting and that he still _really_ wanted that vest. Rather than saying this aloud, though, he merely agreed to go, putting on his jacket and following Francis out the door. The butlers would take care of the mountains of food still left on the table.

Arthur didn't pay attention to where they were going at first. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and he was looking down at the ground as he scuffed his shoes on the ground, kicking innocent pebbles for no apparent reason. He looked up at one point and was shocked at where he found himself: nearly in front of the shop that held the article of his heart's desire!

"No, Francis! I do not wish to go this way," he said suddenly.

Shocked and confused at the sudden outburst from the boy who had been silent up to that moment, Francis stuttered, "D-d'accord. We.. we will turn at this corner."  
>"No. Let's go back now," he said, but it was too late. He could see the sweatervest, still in the window of the shop and he looked at it in longing.<p>

After following his gaze for a moment, Francis instructed, "You stay here a moment," and then disappeared into that very shop as Arthur protested after him, but didn't move from where the man had left him.

A moment later, Francis reappeared with a box in his hands. He pushed it over to Arthur, who spluttered, "N-no, I simply cannot accept this." His face was red and as much as he was protesting, his fingers itched to grab the package and rip it open.

"S'il vous plait, take the package. You would wound my honor if you did not," Francis informed him.

Arthur hesitated. Those words... knowing he would be on someone's bad side... a gentleman did all that he could to keep on the good side of everyone he could. Caving in, he reached out and took the present.

"Francis... I can't," he whispered, shaking a bit. The lad wasn't used to having such affection thrown on him, even if the Frenchman did try to make sure that Arthur knew he was loved.

"Then you do me a great dishonor," the Frenchman reiterated.

After a moment of hesitation, unsure fingers began to pull it open and the first thing Arthur could see was green before his eyes swam with tears. The fabric was softer than he had expected and it felt nice under his fingers. "Thank you," he said softly. And then in a very accented voice, he said, "Merci."

"Cheri, calm down. It's just a vest," Francis said, slightly shocked as he pulled the boy into his chest.  
>"I'm sorry. I'm just... not... I'm not used to this."<p>

"I know." The reply was sad as Francis held the sobbing boy tighter to himself. "You should have had someone better to take care of you. You're the sweetest, most well-behaved boy I have ever met. You deserve better."

Arthur broke down and Francis had to lead him home, where they watched ridiculous American movies for the next several hours until Arthur's mood was much more chipper.

The next day, Arthur went to school wearing his vest. He was so proud of it and the way it brought out his eyes, making them even more vibrant than they already were. However, he soon came to regret wearing the thing. Not because of the other boys' constant teasing of him, but because during recess, when they were all out to play, Arthur was shoved into the dirt as a boy stood over him, threatening to rip his new prized possession to shreds. The moment that threat was made, Arthur couldn't contain the rage that boiled up in him. How _dare_ this uncivilized twat threaten him like that! He was Arthur Kirkland, and no longer was Arthur Kirkland going to let himself be walked all over. With all his might, he kicked upward, getting the boy right in the balls and bringing the giant to his knees over Arthur, who then screamed for the nearest teacher, who saw the other boy on top of him, and both of them were sent to the office to get the mess sorted out. Arthur didn't even deny what he had done. He had finally stuck up for himself and was proud of it, though it nearly got him suspended, but in the end, the principal gave the poor lad a bit of mercy and let him off with detention every day of the week, while the other kid—who had had complaints brought up against him in the past—got kicked out of the school.

Now, I'm not going to say it was a complete happy ending and that no one ever picked on Arthur again after that, because that would be a complete lie. They certainly thought twice about taunting the scrawny boy in the sweatervest, but they still did it, mocking and harrassing whenever they could get away with it, but the physical violence was brought down to merely the occasional shove, rather than constant punches to the gut. Mostly, Arthur ignored what was said and done to him, but whenever it threatened something precious to him, he went into protections mode, keeping the things dear to him safe from harm.


End file.
